


tell me that you love me, that you're thinking of me

by Anonymous



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, unhappy relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 20:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21463927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Rufioh's feelings over his relationship are not very positive ones.
Relationships: Rufioh Nitram/Horuss Zahhak
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16
Collections: Anonymous





	tell me that you love me, that you're thinking of me

Despite everything, you never thought you’d still be dating Horuss four years later. You think you love him. You want to love him. He’s been nothing but a gem as long as you’ve been together. He makes sure to buy you gifts, tell you how much he adores you and the reason you’re going to this bougie restaurant tonight is thanks to him. You certainly could never afford it.

You button up your white shirt, making sure the collar is on properly. You remember when Horuss used to gripe you about that, when your outfit had to be starched and perfect before you met his parents for the first time. You had to dye your hair brown again because your mohawk was already unacceptable, but the red tips  _ had _ to go. They were uncouth, and that wasn’t going to slide in front of his parents. They were already disappointed in the fact that Horuss wasn’t interested in one of the men they had chosen for him. You guess it was fine, because the jobs you were applying for were going to force you to dye your hair again regardless. 

You tie your tie (yet another skill Horuss insisted you learned) and slide on your blazer. He’s meant to pick you up in about fifteen minutes, your phone having chimed several times without you answering any of the texts. You know it’s him because he has a tendency to spam text when he really wants you to answer, which is always.

You’re fairly certain he’s going to propose soon. Maybe even tonight. It would explain the fancy dinner and the insistence for dressing up. You also wouldn’t put a public proposal past him. His displays of affection have always been a bit performative, but you’ve learned to be okay with how affectionate he can get. You don’t  _ enjoy _ PDA but he does what he wants. You owe that much to him knowing what you and Damara get up to when she secretly visits you. 

You don’t know how to feel about being married. You certainly didn’t think this was going to happen in your early twenties, but you’re hoping that you’re overreacting on your end. If you say no you’ll break his heart. You don’t want to ruin four years of a good relationship simply because you don’t see eye to eye on a minor issue. However, if you say yes then you’d have to live with another lie you refuse to tell Horuss about.

You would like to back out of this dinner date, but you know you won’t. If you have to admit anything to yourself in the quiet respite of your room it is that you are a spineless coward. You can’t say no to either of them. You’ve never learned how. Yet you’re not quite satisfied with either of them. They’re both enticing in their own ways, but not enough to keep you away from the other. 

You’ve been fought over so many times you keep Damara a secret now. If she cares, she doesn’t show it, but you think deep down she does. She could easily ruin your relationship with Horuss. She has attempted to before, but Damara’s mellowed out now that you’re all twenty four. You think that has to do with the fact that you’re going nowhere in life and settling for someone persistent enough to keep you from easily leaving. She knows you’re unhappy, and mocks you for staying in a relationship you don’t want to be in. 

Yet you continue to love Horuss half heartedly. When you ask about his job and how his day has been, you almost feel guilty for not caring. Sometimes you have to ask him to repeat himself because you’re not paying attention to the hundreth explanation of something he has to do at work. There is no emotional spark for you. 

Sometimes you wish you were with Horuss for his money. Leaving would be easier if you were interested in him for a superficial reason. He’s gorgeous and kind, and helped you through college financially until you eventually dropped out. When you run your fingers through his thick, dark hair and kiss him for so long you’re both out of breath, you can’t deny the obvious chemistry the two of you have. You know how he likes to be handled; an easy enough task when you don’t let your emotions rear their ugly heads peek through. You don’t think it matters. He doesn’t know.

You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t like the way he made you breakfast when he slept over in your shoddy apartment. How he offered to massage your back with his rough, firm hands when you came back from work tired and sore. The things he’s willing to do for you only keep you meek and from voicing your true thoughts. 

He tells you often there’s no need for you to work, or for you to live in such a decrepit building where the landlord preemptively tells new tenants that  _ everything  _ works and is clean, as if telling everyone that place they’re renting is free of pests is a valid selling point. It’s a selling point for  _ you,  _ but Horuss has always been a bit of a snob. The solution he often brings up is quite simple.

You can simply move into his modestly sized house. 

If you have a job you can help pay the utilities. If you want to start college again you no longer have to worry about stable housing. Horuss tells you that would be the best course of action. His parents would be pleased to find out you were furthering your career, and if he spoke to them they could even help you with any loans you might have! As long as you did what they told you to do, and you chose a career that would be befitting Horuss’.

You’re not going to do that. There’s so much wrong with this offer you don’t even know where to start.

You check your cuffs and give yourself a glance in the mirror so you’re sure the suit fits you. You look prim and neat; if you had better confidence you’d consider yourself attractive. You preen a little at the way you’ve styled your hair. 

You don’t want Horuss to show up and whisk you away. You don’t want him to pull out a chair for you at the restaurant and act courteous and gentlemanly because if he does then there is no reason to break up with him. This is shitty of you to think, but you really should have done this about a year and a half ago. You brace yourself mentally for what’s about to come.

**⋆ ⋆ ⋆**

  
  


Horuss didn’t propose tonight.

He was in the mood to splurge much to your relief. The tab was easily a week’s check for you, closer to two. You both put away two appetizers, your entreés and dessert, with a few glasses of wine and champagne to boot. You wanted to at least cover the tip (which was most likely way too much but you don’t want to mooch). He refused to let you spend money. 

Your building dread was for nothing, and now you feel foolish for thinking he’d do this out of nowhere. Surely, you’re supposed to discuss and agree on marriage before proposing. The problem is you honestly can’t tell if Horuss wouldn’t spring that on you. 

After dinner you began to play a movie at your place. Halfway into the movie, your lips meet his fervently. The best part about making out is lying on top of him. Horuss’ arm muscles are taut in his dress shirt. You unbutton it slowly. He’s clammy but you’re a generator in comparison, so you welcome the difference in temperature. The little noises he makes when you run your hands gently along his torso are enchanting. 

“Rufioh, I—” 

“Easy,” You say, effectively shushing him. You don’t want to talk. You don’t want to ruin the moment held together by the darkness you’re enveloped in. The credits start rolling quietly, the dim lighting giving Horuss’ eyes a starry look to them.

You think about how dumb you probably both look on your tiny couch when you’re both six feet tall. Horuss kisses you again before you think of anything else. 

You speak in hushed tones under the moonlight on your tiny balcony, making you feel like you were nineteen and curious about who Horuss was all over again. The night is cool enough for you both to huddle under a blanket. Twenty minutes into the blanket sharing and you don’t want to hold onto it any longer. You climb into his lap and wrap his arms around your neck. Funny memories sprung up all too easy, giving way to old gossip as well.

Back then, the night time made you brave, as if you had grown a pair of wings. You would stay up all night with him even if you had tests the next day or essays to complete. Three A.M. Denny’s runs were your new normal despite him complaining about the quality of the food. Your studying at the library would devolve into blatant flirting. You didn’t care, you just wanted more of him. You desperately wish you could say that currently. 

He bids you farewell. His hair is sticking up everywhere and the goofy smile on his face lets you know you did a good job. Horuss makes a comment on how long he spent braiding his hair for tonight. You smile at him and apologize, the mirth in your eyes making him scoff. He goes home at around midnight. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> let me know if anything needs to be tagged...i dont think so tho  
thanks for reading, lemme know what you think! i think i might continue this. do dancestor stan even exist in 2019? lol


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